Trinity Island- A Waypoint Between
by ForbiddenDeity
Summary: While the cast of Mianite make their way into the other world in season two, the alternates find themselves stuck on a halfway point between the worlds- a place called Trinity island. They have to survive to fight the three bosses before they can move on. Will they be able to make it? Who knows. Rated T for language and minor descriptions of injury.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Mot didn't remember much. He remembered falling, cold, a dull bellow of anger and pain in his god Dianite's voice roaring through his head. Spark fell to his left, eyes squeezed shut behind his green shades, trying to not cry at the thought of leaving his Ianite and family behind, and Jeriah and Alyssa to his right, gripping hands tightly. The two had become close, she often was giving him flowers and baked goods as her way to show their friendship. His adopted daughter's eyes were wide, her hair flying above her like a Taint tendril and bat ears twitching back and forth, searching for any sound other than the wind. The blood mage, in contrast, was almost serene, looking for all the world like he was taking a nap with his robes fluttering about his frame like the scarlet plumage of a diving bird.

And then the two of them were gone, and it was just him and Spark, Jeriah's robes snapping up to the void above and out of sight. He turned his head to look at Spark, reaching out to grab the older man's hand. Spark opened his eyes and looked over at him at the contact, brown eyes meeting one black and one green. Spark's dark hair was being pulled back on his forehead, sticking in points at the back of his head. Mot's eyes betrayed his fear to the older male, who simply smiled comfortingly. Talking was useless here, the words were whipped away. He had the trust of his goddess that she wouldn't put them somewhere where they would die instantly. But Mot had a feeling that things wouldn't be nearly as easy.

And then he was gone too. Mot was left alone in the void. He snatched Spark's shades before they could disappear, gripping them tightly in his green patched hand. It was so much like a creeper's skin, blast-proof and heat-proof. What would happen to him? Where would he be tossed out? Would he be near the rest of his friends? The thought of waking up somewhere unknown and without a familiar face around him made the man's stomach clench. What kind of world would he be in?

He didn't have much time to worry before the blackness flashed blinding white and he felt a strange lurch through the pit of his stomach, as though a rope was cutting his sharp descent and trying to slow him enough that he didn't die upon impact with the ground. The water still felt as hard as concrete when he hit it.

Mot came to slowly, aware that he was lying on his front with something cold swirling around his legs and something grittier under his cheek and fingers. Before he opened his eyes, he dug his fingers slowly into the surface, feeling the wet sand, seeking the grounding feeling of the solid surface amid the rocking, throbbing feeling in his head.

It was a long time before he mustered the strength to move, the weak sun barely warming his back, and when he squinted his eyes open briefly, the sun only glared into them and worsened his headache. His skin was thoroughly chilled and numbed by the saltwater behind him (while he could tolerate heat he absolutely hated the cold), his head throbbing to the sound of the waves. There was little else to hear.

When he finally managed to move, he could barely get onto his elbows before he was choking on salt water that came up when he took a deep breath, coughing it back up. There was a lot, he must have swallowed half the ocean, and his throat and lungs felt raw and tender by the time he finally coughed it all up. It hurt to breath.

He managed to drag himself to being with only his legs in the water before he collapsed again, resting his green speckled forehead against the sand. 'That was... That was enough moving for now...' He though weakly, dark eyes sliding shut slowly as the creeper skinned male succumbed to the darkness that had threatened to overwhelm him for the brief period that he had been awake.

"Mot." _Someone was talking to him. They sounded familiar._

"Mot!" _He felt cold, body numbed by water, and sore from the impact. Impact from what? He had fallen into the center of the ocean. The water? There was a feeling of someone thumping his chest. When did he roll over? The hand was burning warm compared to how he felt. Sun painted his eyelids in red._

Someone slapped his cheek. Mot groaned, blinking his eyes open and squinting them shut as soon as the sun cheerfully stabbed his retinas with its harsh rays. He lifted one hand to cover his eyes. The darkness was a blessing compared to the light.

"Mot, at least give me my shades back. You're going to break them if you hold them any tighter." Spark's voice said from over him, and the little bit of sun was cut out. Mot moved his hands and looked up at him, now that the sun wasn't glaring into his eyes. Spark's dark eyes looked down into the mis-matched pair below him. It took a moment for Mot to realize what was being asked, but he let go of the mentioned green shades, not aware of how hard he had been holding them until the release of pressure brought pain rushing to the muscles as they stretched.

Spark leaned back and pushed his shades back over his eyes while Mot struggled to sit up, rubbing his hand with his other one and flexing his fingers, trying to work feeling back into it. A brown blur launched itself at him, and he almost fell back again under the sudden weight of Alyssa, her skinny arms wrapping tightly around his chest, making his aching ribs groan in protest. Mot grimaced in pain, but hugged her back. "I'm glad you're safe too girl." He said, looking up at Spark as Jeriah padded up behind him. "Where are we?"

Jeriah handed over a paper that had been pinned to the only tree, wordlessly. He didn't talk much. The blood mage looked strange just standing there in his uniform, instead of the robes that he usually wore. Mot looked down at it as Alyssa peeked over curiously as he started reading out loud.

 _Welcome!_ The note read. _To Trinity Island! This island is a midway point between worlds. To get to your destination, you must defeat three bosses: The Elder Guardian, the Ender Dragon..._ Spark made a sound of distaste at this, the Ender dragon used to be a pet of his lover's and he hated having to hurt one. _-And the Wither! BUT be warned, in this world you have only one life! If you die to anything (such as a_ creeper) This made Mot sigh, he knew all too well how much creepers hurt when they exploded right on top of you. _There will be no coming back! So treat your life well and watch your back, because on Trinity Island... There is no return!_

 _~Dec_

Mot squinted at the letter, reading over it again. His headache was abating somewhat, and after reading the message again, he looked up and looked around, seeing that they were on an island in the middle of nowhere. He scratched his salt-whited hair, looking back at the three in front of him. Jeriah didn't look impressed and seemed more annoyed about the loss of his items (namely his blood mage robes), Alyssa, now that she knew her adopted father was fine, was gravitating towards the rabbits on the island. Spark was the only one who looked as serious as Mot felt, no expression on his face but his eyes behind his black shades concerned.

"So." The creeper skin-patched male said, accepting Spark's hand to haul himself to his feet and putting his weight gingerly on his right ankle. "I guess we fight to survive on our own then."

Spark nodded solemnly. Jeriah crossed his arms and looked over the island. It was calm for now, in the light of day, but that wouldn't last. "We're fucked." He said softly. Mot looked over at the island himself, his daughter chasing the animals happily, the single tree. "Yes you bitter old man." He said. "I think you are right to say that we are completely fucked."


	2. The first night

**Hello everyone! Here is the second installment of Trinity Island. Kind of a slow build, but things will pick up some and I may do some skipping around time-wise just to cut out some of where they would be grinding for resources. Any comments on how to do this better would be great, and tell me what you think, please, this is my first time doing this and I don't know how to do this ;;^;;))**

Mot raked his hand back through his hair, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh. They were stuck, it seemed. Great. He let his hand drop to rub down his face, pinching the inner corners of his eyes. "Alright. Guess we have to play their game then. I'll start punching the tree, but we need something for shelter so that we can escape the mobs at least. Even a zombie could be the death of us." He said, turning to Spark and Jeriah, both of whom looked solemn and serious. Alyssa looked up from where she was petting a rabbit that she had managed to coax into her lap, her ears twitching on her head at the sound of her father talking.

Jeriah nodded. "Make a wooden pick and I'll start getting some cobblestone." He said, and walked off to scan the island and find a good place to start their mine. Spark stood there with his arms crossed, watching Mot. Mot ignored him and went over to the tree, cracking his knuckles and using his green skinned right hand to slug the trunk, working to steadily remove the logs. The first block popped out, and he used his other hand to scoop it up and toss it into his bag. A second block followed and then a third, before Mot stopped and made them into planks. He created a crafting table with the small crafting board in his bag and tossed it down. There were eight planks left. He looked up at Spark. "Make Jeriah a pickaxe." He said, tossing the wood down on the top of the crafting table so that he could go back to the tree and get the rest of the wood.

Spark watched him in silence, but moved forward and crafted sticks to make the handle of the pick. Mot finished gathering the wood from the small tree and stood under it to wait for falling saplings. His hand was sore, but the skin had held up better than it would have on his other hand, and there was only some minor bruising around his knuckles. He watched Spark finish the pick and take it over to Jeriah, and turned his head to see Alyssa digging into a sand hill from the top to make a shelter.

He turned his eyes back to the tree and walked two steps left to collect a sapling, planting it back in the place of the first tree. Spark came back over, leaning against the wooden crafting bench and watching him through his shades. Mot hated it when he did that, he hated not being able to read his eyes. The businessman put a lot of stock into his ability to read people and be unreadable in return, but when he couldn't see someone's eyes, that just made him feel uneasy. He had to tread more carefully, watch what he said and examine their body language more. Probably why Spark insisted on wearing his stupid green shades up far enough to actually cover his eyes around the younger male.

"Why do you keep staring at me? If I didn't know any better, I would think that you're staring at my ass. " Mot eventually said, tone a bit snappish but teasing as he picked up another sapling and one red apple. He put the apple into his bag and moved to the side to plant the sapling down and let it grow as well. He kept his back to Spark, but felt his gaze on his back like flaming arrows.

"What? Me, staring at your ass? Maybe I'm just how you haven't broken more mirrors walking past them, hm?" Spark countered, a smirk in his voice at the usual banter between them. The two had always been close, even before their relationships to their gods became more. He shifted to rest his chin on his fist, twirling a spare stick around the fingers of his other hand. Spark preferred action to debate, but he could have a way with words if he wanted to.

"Well then what did you lose over here, because I can assure you that your rapier is not down the back of my shirt." Mot said back, turning to face him with the apple in hand, hurling it his way. Spark caught it with the ease of having dealt with things being thrown at him for a long time. He put the stick down and held the apple in both hands, rubbing his thumb over a small flaw in the perfect red skin.

"Nothing, I was just wondering about something." The answer, straight forward for once, made Mot pause in gathering seeds from the long grass, frowning. Spark rarely gave a straight answer, he had spent far too long around Ianite. As a result, he had picked up her way of weaving words around until you never really knew what he was saying until an hour after he said it. So a straight answer was rare to get from him.

"Wondering about what, exactly?" Mot said, cautiously, probing the clump of grass by his feet to search for more seeds. The same way he was probing Spark to answer. The man stared at his younger friend over his shades and shrugged when Mot turned to look at him.

"I sensed something when were were falling. Dianite seemed to be in pain, Mianite seemed aggressive, and my lady seemed distressed. It worried me to not know what happened behind us. Doesn't it do the same to you?" He said eventually, looking over at Jeriah as he came up from where he had been mining, the wooden pick finally broken. He had gathered a good few pieces of cobble and even some coal.

"What are you two talking about?" The blood mage asked, squinting up at the sky and frowning at how low the sun seemed. Mot filled him in on what they had been talking about about sensing something off between their gods when they were falling while Spark made a stone pick and two stone swords. With their few remaining sticks, they made torches and started putting them around the island, trying to keep it lit up so they didn't have to deal with the creatures of the night. Not that that would do much, if there was a blood moon.

Jeriah looked at the two of them. "Hey, why don't I get a sword?" Spark looked over from planting a torch down and smiled dryly.

"Because you are just as likely to smack Mot around with it than actually fight mobs, and we're the better fighters out of all of us. You relied on your blood magic too much. Go help Alyssa with gathering the animals." She had dug a pit next to the small, roofless hole she had made, and was currently trying to shove them in.

Muttering bitterly, he stomped over to where she was shoving at a cow and helped her guide it in, scowling behind the ridiculous mustache he had covering his upper lip. Mot laughed slightly and shook his head. "He really hates menial tasks doesn't he?" He commented to Spark. The older man murmured in agreement, taking a stone to try and give the rock weapon in his hand a better edge. Their previous conversation was left off for now, more pressing matters taking the place of it, such as making sure they survive the night. Already things were spawning in the water, two zombies and a skeleton, a spider on the far side of the island and a creeper on a small sand island in the distance. Their first night had begun.


	3. Mobs and Mining

**Hey, back again with the next chapter of Trinity Island- A waypoint between, and I think I'm getting sick!** (ugh, constant coughing and I can't breath ;;^;;) **What will happen in this chapter? Will Jeriah perish in the same way as his alternate? Perhaps…** **¬_¬** **who knows… also going to start with occasional change in p.o.v from now on. To everyone who has been reading, thank you! I'm surprised that so many people picked it up so quickly! Please leave reviews, as other than taking things loosely in the direction that they went when the Mianite cast did I'm not really sure what I'm doing. This one is a day early because I will be without wifi for the weekend, but I plan on writing something up over the weekend and simply revising when I get on the computer again and updating maybe monday.**

 **Also, -casually slides Dianitee headcannon into Spark's pov- if you don't like it, ignore it, it won't get involved in the rest of this story but when I start my next one it will be more involved in that, hint-hint 0u0))**

 **Mot p.o.v**

The first night was relatively ok, and so was the second, all things considered. With the island lit up as it was, there were very few things actually spawning on it. They were all in the water around the started spawning on the trees once they grew up though, so the second night was more fighting than trying to get resources like the first one was. The first night saw Spark and Mot competing to see who could get the most mob kills by sunrise, a game they usually played during the blood moon in their own world.

After a while on the second night though, Spark didn't even bother trying to compete with Mot on the kills like they usually did on the blood moon in their own world. He made a stone pick and went to go mine next to Jeriah, leaving the younger male to fight.

Mot was ok with that really. He might be a businessman, but Mot was also a champion of Dianite. When not doing anything, he would look for a fight. He's been like that since he was a kid, always getting into fistfights and contests. It was one of the things that had made Dianite take a shine to him, and once he was his champion, he had trained him in business. The creeper- infected male slashed his stone sword through a zombie, once, twice, three times before it puffed into dust and was gone.

He spun around and flicked the tip of the sword up under a skeleton's jaw, twisting its skull off the bony column of its spine. Three bones dropped, landing on top of a pile of dust. Mot left all the drops, leaving Alyssa to scurry after him once he cleared an area to gather the drops. The rush of battle thrummed through him, and he wasn't aware of the time passing by.

So when Spark came up behind him and went to touch his shoulder while Mot was eyeing a creeper in the water, he very nearly got his head taken off when the battle ready younger male whirled around at the touch, the now dull stone sword flicking up under the older male's chin.

Spark flinched, but refused to jerk back like most people would have done, because he knew that doing so, with Mot in this state, would mean his head being taken off. He was too used to Mot losing himself in the heat of a fight to be surprised. "Mot." He said calmly, slowly lifting one hand to wrap around the hilt of the sword, working to gently pry the younger's fingers off of the sword, "It's me, Spark. There's nothing else to fight, its daytime. You can let go of the sword." Their third day on the island.

 **Jeriah p.o.v**

Jeriah stood back near the sleeping Alyssa, arms crossed over his chest and a new iron chestplate on. He scowled slightly at the sight before him. Mot was never the sort of person he felt should have any kind of command. He was too wild, too random. Too much of a wild card, and his actions right now only cemented that. Shaking his head, he sighed and went back to the mine so that he could gather some more resources. They had found some iron, not that much. Spark had said about making a pick and sword with his five, but Jeriah insisted on using his for armor. They could do without upgraded tools for now, but anything could be the death of them.

He made his way down into the mine, stopping to mine some coal that he hadn't gotten on his way down the first few times. Jeriah continued down to where he had broken into a small cave, looking around. There was some lava to the side, redstone, and even some more iron. There was a small open space above his head, but he didn't give it more than a glance. After so long in their own world being OP as hell, he was used to things dying if they hit him at all. A stupid, harmless mistake.

 **Spark p.o.v**

Spark didn't like when Mot got like this. He didn't like the normally calm, sometime child-like male becoming this- a cold fighter with a passion to kill. They were friends, and he had seen him like that often, but still… it had to be part of being with Dianite, that god of death. Granted he didn't act like it, but Spark had read much on the gods and how their disciples changed in their time under them. Mianitees got an intense hatred of anything that didn't meet their standards of perfection, or hinted at that Nether underworld or anything relating to Mianites younger brother. Ianitees remained relatively the same, though prone to fits of madness depending on the condition their goddess was in, and to strange dreams and doing things with no memory. Ianite had been perfectly fine through Spark's knowing her, but he knew that she was far from ok.

And Dianite followers? Surprisingly there was littler written by them than even Ianite, and even those were ramblings. From what he had been able to glean, the followers of the God of the Realm of Fire were always amazing fighters, always loyal to a fault, and always killer businessmen… and always lost themselves to the power they were granted, or simply were driven insane by a force that they didn't know. The myth of the berserkers came from those of Dianite who became animalistic in battle, driven insane by the power and the force and strong to the point of their own god being needed to dispose of them sometimes. The closer they were to him, the stronger they were, the more cunning… and the sooner to go insane.

He didn't want that for Mot. The kid was too nice, too friendly to everyone, always willing to help. He had never known him before the accident that had infected him with creeper spores (which Dianite then saved him from dying to them, probably where part of what Mot's undying loyalty to his god came from), but for the entire time that Spark had known him, he had been nothing but good and fair enough to be an Ianite follower.

"Please Mot, drop the sword, i'm not looking to fight." He said, making his voice as soothing as he could with the dull blade against his throat, prying his fingers off the hilt slowly. There was something wavering in his gaze at the familiar words before recognition snapped into his gaze.

Mot let Spark pry his fingers away from the blade, his empty hand dropping to his side. A long night of fighting and no sleep left him in a tired daze, too tired to even be hungry and with dark shadows under his eyes. He was missing the flower crown that Alyssa made almost religiously, lost when they had fallen. It looked strange seeing him without one. They needed to get some iron to shear the sheep and make beds. Spark put the nearly broken sword in his own bag and turned back to Mot, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Just take it easy today bud, you were fighting most of the night." He said, when the younger's eyes tiredly lifted to gaze at him. Mot didn't even argue, just nodded and started moving over to the hut to collapse on the ground.

 **Everyone p.o.v**

Mot hadn't even reached the area when he got a feeling like someone punched him in the stomach. From the looks of the other two, he wasn't the only one who felt that. Mot spun to face Spark, whose face was pale. The two stared at each other for a moment. Then Spark voiced what they all knew.

"Jeriah." He said, as the pain faded to a deep ache in the muscles of his stomach. Mot nodded and darted to the chest, snatching out an iron sword Spark had made and sprinting towards the mine. Alyssa let out an anguished wail that rent the air and buried her head in her hands. Spark paused, torn. After a moment, he moved over to Alyssa to comfort her, trusting Mot not to make a mistake in his grief. He might have teased Jeriah constantly and groaned over him being a stick in the mud, but despite their opposing gods, the two were still friends.

And then there were three.

 **(Aaand that is where I leave you for the weekend! Hey, remember that one guy? Yeah. I did the thing, and now you have to deal with the jokes for the rest of the story. I'm a horrible person, but Jeriah seems like the sort to forget that this wasn't his world anyway, and i just had to. :P seeya later lovelies~)**


	4. What now?

**OMG I am so sorry I'm late ;;^;; Don't be mad at me… I just have had a lot going on lately and trying to juggle my life is getting hectic. I'll try to update on time, but I've been having trouble writing of late. Had to revise the story a lot this chapter, and most of it is just filler because I can't think of what else to write and need to get something done. Promise the next chapter will be better! Please let me know what you think about it!))**

 **Mot p.o.v**

Mot charged down the mine, panic clawing at his throat. Where had that idiot been?! He sprinted down the stone stairs, feeling the air becoming stale and dusty, with the scent of burning torches in the air. He spun a corner and almost fell down the stairs one more time. Slamming his shoulder into the wall to stop himself, Mot took a moment to catch his breath. "Jeriah!" He shouted, shoving himself upright.

A weak sound came from further down the tunnel, and he sprinted towards it desperately. No matter what he said about the blood mage, he was his friend, and he cared for him. Caring was still a new feeling for the male, but he didn't mind it even when it hurt him. The tunnel opened into a cave, lava on one side, items on the ground… and Jeriah, lying prone. Blood painted his side red, and his face was grey and pale. Mot dropped onto his knees beside him. His shaking hands reached out to touch his chest, bunching in the fabric of his uniform.

"No… No, no, nonono…" He mumbled, gripping the red cloth tightly. Mot was shaking, feeling cold. Jeriah… gone, just like that. The stupid, wet blanket of a man, so used to having things die when they hit him in his blood mage robes, killed because a creeper jumped down right on top of him.

Tears burned Mot's eyes, and he leaned forward to press his forehead against the side of Jeriah's still chest, eyes squeezed shut. "You stupid… stupid mage…" He hiccupped, the words broken and quiet in the stillness, barely louder than the hiss and pop of the lava. "You forgot… didn't you? You forgot that we could die…" He sat back, curling his hands into fists. With an angry shout, he punched the stone beside him with both fists, vision blurring until he couldn't see, and screamed until his throat hurt and his knuckles were bruised and bleeding. He couldn't go back up like this. Alyssa would need him to be strong, and Spark… For some reason showing weakness around Spark just rankled him. Mot felt disgusted with himself when he did. He didn't know what it was, but he couldn't let Spark see him like this.

Mot remained there for a long time, eventually sitting back with his arms wrapped around his legs so he could rest his chin on his knees. The tears dried on his cheeks, making the skin stiff and itchy. He didn't move. Jeriah's body had long since disappeared, leaving only a drying pool of red and his items scattered on the ground. Mot sniffed and rubbed his nose against his torn sleeve, then sighed. Slowly, the man forced himself to his feet, fixed his scarf to cover the lower half of his face, and started gathering the items that had come out of Jeriah's bag. He picked up the chestplate, thumb rubbing over a scratch that a chip of stone had made. Gone, just like that. It made Mot realize just how fragile their life was in the hands of their gods. It was a sobering thing.

Slowly, he put it on. He gathered some resources that Jeriah had had but not used. Namely an iron pick that wasn't damaged at all. He climbed up into the hollow that the creeper had evidently fallen from, to put a torch down in it. Mot rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and looked around. He was still not quite ready to go back up, and he felt like he should have something to show for his time down here. So Mot scanned the tunnels, searching for more ores to mine.

He was mining up some coal when he saw a glint of blue in the corner of his eye. Mot was drawn instantly, leaping down and stumbling as he landed, but grinning as he saw the bright baby blue stone glinting at him. And not even five steps away from where Jeriah died, hidden by some stone. Of all the ironies in the world, this one made him laugh out loud.

 **Everyone p.o.v**

Spark sat with Alyssa, feeling the warm sun beating down on his shoulders through the white shirt he wore. His blazer was over the young girl's shoulders, she needed the comfort of it far more than he did. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the dirt hill behind him, letting out a sigh. Where was Mot? There wasn't any other feeling of gut- wrenching pain, so he hadn't been hurt by anything in his mad dash downward.

He couldn't leave Alyssa. If he did and Mot came back, the younger male would tear him a new one for leaving his adopted daughter alone. She had a rabbit in her lap, toying with one of its long, soft ears. The creature wasn't even afraid of her, resting happily with its eyes closed. She had named it, but he couldn't remember what.

The sun was going down by the time they heard Mot come thumping up the stone stairs from the caves and tunnels below. He was whistling softly and had a bright look on his face, the pick was swung up on his shoulder , and something blue tumbling across his knuckles despite the pain it gave him to do so with his injured hand. Upon seeing them standing and walking over to him, Mot stopped, standing still and waiting for them to get in front of him.

"I managed to get all of his items." He said, face blanking and getting serious. "There was no way he could have escaped the creeper. It dropped down almost on top of his head. He only had an iron chestplate." Anything less than full armor sets wouldn't protect someone from a creeper landing on their head.

Spark nodded slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, that's something at least. We'll need everything." Everyone was quiet for a moment, unsure of what to do next. One of them was missing already, and it left a gap in the air and group like they were missing a limb. Mot rocked back on his heels, biting on his lower lip in thought. The silence was thick and uncomfortable. After a moment, he cleared his throat.

"Anyway… I did some searching around while I was down there and found something." Mot said, flicking whatever it was in his hand into his palm. He held it out.

Spark's eyes widened, and he plucked the diamond from Mot's palm, examining it. "You found diamonds?! Where?" Alyssa shuffled closer, her ears twitching on top of her head curiously. In the world they had lived in, they had never had a need for these basic resources, there had been things much rarer than diamonds to find. But here, it was evident that they didn't have anything but the very basics. Diamonds were what they needed the most, the best they could get in this world. They didn't even have their weapons.

"Yeah." Mot said, pulling out the rest of them. It had been a relatively ok vein, five diamonds at the very least. "Right around the corner from where he had died, just one layer behind the stone. If I hadn't gone to get some coal in a cave nearby, I never would have seen them."

 **Spark p.o.v**

Spark watched the other male as he turned the diamond over in his hands, chewing on the inside of his cheek wordlessly. He was well enough versed on how Mot acted to know that the man was not as ok as he appeared. He could see the blood on his knuckles and the trouble he had moving his left hand, the dried tracks on his cheeks from the salt in his tears. But that's who Mot was, he was the sort of person to shove down his own feelings for the sake of everyone else. With the stories he had heard from Dianite about how Mot was growing up before the god found him, he couldn't really blame him for locking his feelings down. Mot didn't grow up with his parents after the creeper explosion, he was on the street well into his teens.

But he could wear him down about that later. It was too soon and Alyssa would be clinging to them desperately to try and make sure they didn't leave the same way. Mot was speaking, rambling really, as he went towards where they had made their base at.

"We need to do something about this." He was saying, voice not quite cheerful but at least vaguely happy at his find, motioning to the sand walls of the roofless hut even as he organized his inventory through the single chest they had. "There's not enough room for us all in here and we still need beds. There's plenty of cobblestone for us to use, we should tear this down and make a proper house."

After a moment, he stopped, standing up with some cobblestone in his hands. Mot stared blankly into the distance for a moment. "I still feel like I should do something. We can't just do nothing for the stupid mage." The green patched male murmured, almost to himself.

He moved over to the crafting table on a sudden whim of his, with the cobblestone and made something, then a sign. Spark frowned slightly as Mot stopped over to a clear, level patch of ground and dug out two of the dirt, replacing it with cobblestone. Behind that, he put three cobblestone walls, then one more on the center one. On that, he hung the sign and picked up the pencil that came with it.

'RIP

Jeriah The Mage

Day Three'

Alyssa perked up just a bit at the sight of the makeshift grave, and hurried forward with some red flowers to plant them around and make it look pretty. Mot smiled at her and ruffled her hair. Spark remained back, leaning against a tree and watching the two. Something was off about Mot, and he could sense that. He just didn't know what. The man was acting far more childishly than he had in their own world.

The man let out a sigh and scratched the stubble on his chin. 'Our troubles are just beginning.' He thought. 'Not even one boss down and we're down by one.' Trinity Island took on a whole new meaning now. The quiet, content warmth of the surface, surrounded by ocean, felt darker to him, and he knew he wasn't the only one who felt it.

As Jeriah had said on their first day, they were fucked. Royally.


	5. A Forbidden Subject

**Soo sorry I updated late! Turns out the past weekend was with my mom and not going up to my grandparents! I had to write this chapter on my iPod! :P ugh I hate it when I get times wrong... Anyway, this chapter will have mostly filler and some drama between Spark and Mot. Also Mot having flashbacks to his parents' deaths and Spark trying to get him to open up.))**

They finished the house in a day, working hard and in silence. Mot and Spark mined cobble and iron, gathered resources for a Nether portal, and finished the house. They didn't speak. Alyssa made pens for the animals, singing softly to herself as she usually tended to do and sorted them, then tended the farm. She didn't like fighting, and mining held very little interest to her, so they left her up on the island to do what she pleased while the two of them went side by side to find things they needed.

Spark made bookcases and an enchanting table. Since they didn't seem to be able to build a forge, they would have to hope for good enchantments to aid them in their fights. But they had nowhere to put it right now, so they didn't even bother placing the thing down. All it would do is take up space.

They made beds once they made some shears for the sheep. One too many it seemed, someone had made a bed earlier but never used it. They had four now. Three they pushed together at the back wall of the cobblestone house, taking comfort in the presence of the others at night with Alyssa usually in between them, and left the fourth one against the wall. Her black and white bunny slept in a pen to the side, near the foot of the fourth bed. She hadn't given him a name yet, that she's told Mot and Spark about at least. The days passed by a bit repetitively with mining, smelting, and farming. The obsidian sat unused in the chest, pressing its sharp, cold angles against Mot's hand every time he reached into the chest for something.

Finally, he pulled it out and looked down at it, rubbing his thumb over the surface. The Nether was pretty much a second home to him, every since Dianite found him. That hellish, hot place was the closest he could get to getting back to normal in some way.

"Spark." Mot called out a moment later, not talking again until Spark looked up from where he was sitting by the furnaces, waiting for some fish to cook with his arms hugged against his chest and standing close to the warmth of furnaces. It was getting colder, they could see their breath in the air some mornings and once even a bit of frost. "Can you make me some cobble slabs? I'm going to build out to that sand island over there and build the nether portal. We're going to need blaze rods for the brewing stands and eventually Wither skulls."

Spark frowned slightly and checked his fish, then shrugged. "Don't see why not, mining quartz is a good way for levels." He said, going over to the crafting bench and reaching into the chest next to it for some cobblestone. He handed over two stacks of the stuff, then went back to his fish.

Mot left him be, Alyssa still sleeping on the beds. The girl would sleep all day if they let her, but Mot decided to let her stay warm in the blankets for a while longer. Stepping outside almost made him flinch with the cold before the sun warmed him slightly. He went over to where the island could be seen and started putting down the slabs.

The work was repetitive and sometimes hard, but he didn't mind. Mot stopped only once to take off his red jacket and leave it on the stone behind him, then went back to laying the cobble in the white sleeveless shirt he wore under it, scarf pulled over his mouth and nose so the air wasn't so cold. Though goosebumps rose on his arms, he didn't feel the chill, only warm from the burn of straining muscles. It was relaxing in a way, building like this. He couldn't build to save his life in terms of vanity, but hey, at least the structures would hold for a while and be functional.

Once he reached the island, Mot stopped and stretched, muscles trembling with the effort, and yawned. He hasn't been sleeping well, and Spark might be noticing that... He was rarely in the house when the other man woke up, constantly doing something. Even if it was just swimming laps around the island, though the water was getting too cold for that now.

Mot never went into the caves below though, not alone. It was an unspoken law that the two of them never went down without the other. The surface was safe enough that Alyssa would be fine alone, but the caves were another matter.

Spark was a smart guy though, just incredibly dense sometimes, and he was putting together the absence of him from the large bed at night and the exhaustion, snappiness, and catnaps Mot had taken to having during the days when they didn't do much. He had nearly yelled at Alyssa yesterday because of something she did, and he never raised his voice at her even when she did something wrong. Mot built the portal and stepped back to look at it with a proud smile, hands on his hips. Now he just needed a flint and steel to light it. They had one somewhere...

 **Spark p.o.v**

Something was up with Mot. He could tell that easily. Spark remained where he was, leaning against the chest of food by the furnaces and rubbing his hands down his arms. It was definitely getting colder, there was no denying that. Even here on their island, they couldn't escape the cold. Alyssa mumbled something to herself on the bed behind him and rolled over, stealing all the blankets and wrapping herself into a ball. The room was chilly, even with the six furnaces all doing things.

Mot hadn't been on his side of the bed when Spark had woken up. Surprisingly, the man had insisted on taking the bed farthest away from the only heat source in the small house. At first, Spark had been confused but hadn't thought anything of it. It was only now that he realized that the creeper infected male had wanted that space because he could slid out of bed easier when he woke up in the middle of the night and either shift to the bed against the wall so that he didn't disturb the other two or just never went to sleep again.

He knew from Dianite that Mot had nightmares. It would be hard to not be traumatized by the events that made him an orphan. But after that, Spark didn't know much. He only knew even that much because Dianite had been confiding in Ianite to try and find the best way to help his new champion and he had overheard. Mot didn't even like talking about his past to his own god.

That was an issue though, because Spark needed to have good communication with the man so that they could fight and mine without getting in each others way. While the fish he had caught yesterday cooked, Spark thought about how to best approach Mot on the subject of his recent behavior in the past week or two. There was no easy way for him to do that though, because Mot would just shut down and refuse to talk or completely dance around the subject. He was about as straightforward as the gods when it came to conversation he didn't want to have. There was a reason he was so good at business after all. Mot was manipulative to the point that no one, not even Dianite, could tell when he was being serious or not just playing them.

So he would have to try and not let Mot distract him. Taking a fish out of the furnace and eating it carefully so he didn't accidentally get any of the small bones inside it, Spark looked up as he heard Mot slipping back inside, a cold draft sweeping through the house. The man's cheeks were red with the cold and exertion of building the bridge, and he had his jacket over his shoulder despite the goosebumps that covered his green patched arms.

"I have the bridge and portal built." Mot whispered, coming closer to the furnaces and taking a chicken leg out of one to eat. "It just needs lit now. Forgot the flint and steel in the house." He finished the chicken and went over to the chests, shuffling through it as quietly as he could to look for the flint and steel. On the bed, Alyssa yawned and stretched, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, finally waking up.

There goes Spark's chance to talk to Mot. The green shaded older male sighed slightly and nodded. "We have picks and armor, might as well light the portal and go through. If we get some quartz, I have an idea for an enchanting area we can do." He said. Mot hummed in agreement and let out a sound of triumph when he found what he needed.

Alyssa waved at them as they went out, still sitting in the bed. There wasn't much that she needed to do, so she would just spend the day goofing off most likely. The two males clumped across the bridge to the other island, checking the straps on their armor to make sure they were tight and making sure they had enough blocks and food to make it to the ground if they were on an island, and if they spent more time in there than they thought. Time passed as strangely as distance in the Nether, you never knew how long it would be in the overworld.

Mot had an ender pearl as well, one of their very few, rolling it between his palms. He never liked being without one, it made him feel safer knowing that he could teleport away from a situation. Spark didn't say anything when he saw it. If it made the other man more comfortable, then that would just make it easier for him to broach the topic of his recent behavior.

They went over to the portal and stood there for a moment making sure that they had everything they could need for their trip, since they didn't plan on leaving any time soon. Mot put the pearl in his bag and bounced on his toes, almost eagerly. The flint and steel in hand, he looked over at Spark as if waiting for the other's permission. When the older male finished his check and nodded, he struck the steel with the flint and watched the sparks fly towards the dark obsidian. They remained glowing for a moment against the glossy surface before there was an inrush of air and the purple, swirling portal sprang into life, cold air pouring out of the gateway between the overworked and that hellish dimension. Spark took a deep breath and held it, then stepped forward to follow Mot, who had leapt through the instant the portal formed.

 **Mot p.o.v**

Mot was through the portal the instant it formed, eager to get into that hot, familiar place. The portal was shockingly cold, and for a moment a feeling of weightlessness punched through his chest and stomach like he was leaving his body behind. It only lasted a moment, but the cold was bone deep.

He was spat out on the slightly spongy netherrack, stumbling and shuddering in the cold that had frosted his damp hair. Mot stretched his arms in front of him and then over his head, groaning. The arid air smelled of sulfur and burning, and Mot felt himself relax with a content sigh, muscles loosening as he let his arms drop and pulled his diamond pick from his belt, looking around to discover the area and see what they had to do to try and find a fortress.

Behind him, he heard the portal spit out Spark, who stumbled to his knees before awkwardly lurching to his feet. The shaded man groaned and coughed. "How can you stand being in here? The air feels like it's burning my throat..." He complained. Mot laughed at this, and turned to look at him.

"Talking to someone who drank lava and ate tnt on a dare Spark-plug, AND whose god rules the underworld. The Nether is pretty much a second home to me." He said dryly, turning again and edging closer to the edge of the platform they were on, laying on his stomach and sticking his head over. It was a far drop on one side, and right into lava, but the other was doable, if they were careful. They couldn't get too injured, since they didn't have any potions to help heal them, and any injury like a broken leg or sprained ankle could mean the end of them.

Mot hummed in thought, looking over at where Spark was bent over with his hands pressed to his knees, face pale. Spark had never handled the portal trips well, he always felt sick after them. Not that Mot could really blame him, he hated the trips to the End for the same reasons while Spark loved them. It could be intense if you weren't prepared for it. "There's a way down the left side, if we build out a little so that we can get down without breaking something. I can start working on it if you need some time to recover." He said.

Spark waved a hand, closing his eyes and forcing himself to stand upright, rubbing his face with his other hand. "I'll be fine, I swear... Just give me a minute. I'll be right over." Mot examined him critically and shrugged, then went to where the ledge almost met up with the ground below and judged the jump. He didn't want to waste his ender pearl just yet.

 **Spark p.o.v**

It took some thinking and cursing, but eventually the two of them got down with no issue, building a cobble staircase so that no ghasts would break it with their fireballs. Pigmen grunted and squealed, looking at the two with rheumy eyes, passive for the moment. Mot used to dive into the Nether and fight whole hoards of them for fun on days when there was nothing going on and he couldn't convince Dianite or Ianite, or even rarely Mianite before he changed, to summon things for him to fight.

The younger man was in high spirits, humming and singing, a spring in his step that had been missing for the past few days there in full. Spark noted this absently, as the two of them mined through the red not-stone that made up the Nether to try and reach where a large open area was and get out of the area they had been in.

Mot even seemed to be almost gleeful when he spotted a ghast in the distance, pulling out his bow. "Hey, you think I could shoot that thing from here?" He asked, nocking an arrow to the string. Spark shook his head slightly with a faint smile.

"If you make that, and kill it in at least three shots, I will literally build a scale model of your massive ego out of quartz." Spark said, tone teasing and light. It was far enough away that it would be possible but difficult, and they needed the tears anyway. Mot grinned.

"I will take that bet! If I can't, you get to order me around for three days." He said. The two shook on it to seal the deal, and Mot drew back his bow again and took careful aim.

Spark had to admit that Mot was certainly dedicated to whatever he put his mind to. He never seemed like much of a gambler unless he though the desired outcome outweighed the potential cost. Then the man couldn't help himself, even against impossible seeming odds. He could understand why Dianite liked him so much. Mot could take these impossible odds into stride and run with them until he reached what he needed to, and never went back on his word. This intensity was a blessing and a curse, for it meant that his devotion to his god was absolute and final.

Mot focused hard on the ghast, which was drifting slightly closer but to the side, over solid ground. The look of intensity on his face was somewhat cute to see, he never half assed things. Spark watched the first shot sail in a long arch until he couldn't see the arrow anymore. The ghast's screech of pain told them that it hit home. Mot grinned and quickly drew another arrow. He took aim and fired again.

Before the arrow even hit, he was turning to Spark with a smirk. The dying shriek of the creature filled the air. "I'm expecting that statue of me to be done in two days." He grinned. Spark groaned and shook his head, giving him a playful shove before they walked over to where the ghast had dropped a tear, and went on their way searching for a fortress.

They mined quartz and teased each other, playful banter back and forth as they walked. It was a strangely mundane thing. Mot hadn't really spoke to the rest of them a lot when they had been in their world, too busy, too tired, or just couldn't be bothered. So it was strange to have this friendship with him, but Spark didn't mind it. Mot was a good kid really, he just had a bad run in life.

They were walking around for a long time trying to find that red brick structure. Eventually, they stopped, irritation scratching at both of them like the sweat that dripped down the back of Spark's neck. Mot made walking through the Nether look like a stroll in a field, not even sweating, and the sulphuric air not making his breath drag against his throat.

Mot mined out a chunk of low lying glowstone while the other male let himself drop against where part of the spongy rock ceiling met the ground, leaning his head back with a sigh. The netherrack was warm but not hot, actually on the cool side. It felt nice against his warm skin.

Mot sat down next to him, spinning a quartz shard in hand thoughtfully. Spark offered one of the glad bottles of water he had packed into his bag before they had left. Since they were surrounded by salt water, they couldn't drink that, but much of the water in the caves was fresh enough to drink.

He took it, and offered Spark some bread and steak from his own bag. The two fell into a companionable silence, listening to the crackle of distant fire and the grunt of pigmen.

If there was ever a time that Spark could try to get him to talk, it would be now.

Spark cleared his throat, looking down at his hands and tapping his finger against the rim of the glass bottle. Mot opened one eye to look at him, then closed it and leaned back against the spongy stone like he was lounging on the beach. Spark looked over and sighed silently at the sight of him. Looking back down at the water bottle, he took a drink and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He was never any good at creating conflicts, no matter the sort. Spark tried to solve it, so situations like this he didn't really like.

"Mot. We need to talk about something." He said finally, opening his eyes and looking over at the younger male, face serious. He didn't speak again until Mot opened his eyes and frowned over at him, confusion in his gaze.

Spark took a deep breath and let it out again, unable to meet Mot's eyes. "You've been acting strangely lately. You haven't been sleeping." In this light, the dark skin under his eyes was prominent, the bloody light making his exhaustion appear even worse.

"And don't think I haven't noticed. You're rarely in bed when the rest of us wake up, you've been snappier even with Alyssa. Taking naps when you think the two of us aren't looking, and you've been acting all fine and dandy like we aren't stranded on an island where anything could kill us to try and throw off suspicion. I know you have nightmares, but this feels like more than that. You need to let me know. I can't help you otherwise."

Spark watched Mot's face carefully through his shades, making sure his tone remained level and firm to try and let Mot know that he would t take some bullshit answer but was not going to force him to explain. Mot's face flickered with shock at the accusations, then tightened as he blanked his face to prevent Spark from reading his emotions.

When Spark finished speaking, he was quiet for a moment, turning his head so that Spark was only in the very corner of his vision. Mot was quiet for a long time, then slowly stood up. "I'm fine, Spark." He said, tone chilly. "I just haven't been able to sleep so I figured that I might as well do things while you two sleep."

"That's a load of bull and we BOTH know it Mot." Spark said, tone tightening. "I may be an idiot at times but even Alyssa is putting two and two together. Dianite talked to Ianite about it when he first got you. I heard them talking about it a lot, and I know personally that time does not heal all wounds."

Mot slowly turned around. "Fine. I have nightmares, and they suck and they still hurt. I've had them since I saw my parents die. I still think that the spores are going to spread, and I'm going to die, because it hurts worse than anything you could ever imagine to have your skin harden inside and out. I had my nightmares and thoughts under control until Jeriah died, and I haven't had a full night's sleep since. And Dia did NOT 'get' me." He said, tone as cold as the portal trip into here. "I am not his pet, the way you and Jeriah are with your 'lady of balance'. I am his business partner and champion."

Spark knew that he had just invited the verbal lashing he was getting, but being referred to as Ianite's pet and not her champion or lover, the same way he knew Mot was Dianite's, burned in his chest. His face twisted in anger, before Spark closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get his emotions under control. Mot was tired, he wasn't aware of what he was saying and he couldn't blame him for it.

"I'm not saying that you're his pet, and Jeriah and I are not Ianite's pets either. I'm saying that even your god was confiding in his sister to try and help you with your problems. But no one can help you unless you let them." He stood up and stepped closer to the other male, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder. "And here, the three of us are all we have left."

Mot was trembling when Spark touched him, a subtle tremor but still there. He was more upset than he was letting on. Spark wrapped his arm around Mot's shoulders, pulling the other male against his side. Mot didn't resist the motion, leaning listlessly against him for a moment before standing up with a sigh. "Yeah. I'll keep that in mind. We need to find the fortress soon, or we need to go back. There's only a few water bottles left." He said, voice level and blank, emotionless. Spark watched Mot's retreating back with concern, worried for him.


	6. Acrobatics and Blazes

**Uughh life is so hard right now… This is definitely late as it is becuase I just have so much school stuff going on right now…. I'm sorry guys, I'll try to update more consistently in about another week. It's short I know, but I've been in a rut lately and my life is hectic.))**

 **Mot p.o.v**

After what felt like a few hours of wandering around, they were about to give up on finding a Nether Fortress. The water was gone, and even Mot was feeling drained himself. He may enjoy the heat, but the oppressiveness of it and the naturally muggy nature of the Nether were wearing on him as well.

Spark had long since given up on finding one this time, and was currently dropped against the spongy stone in a hole where he had mined out some quartz, eyes closed. His face was flushed from the heat, and sweat dampened his hair to his forehead. Mot felt bad for him, because if he was starting to feel the wear of being in the Nether for this long, it meant the Spark had been feeling it longer and more intensely. So they were about to give up and leave, when Mot saw something.

He stopped mining some quartz and squinted into the distance, trying to see through the red, foggy light. "Is that…?" He murmured, frowning. Without explaining, he started walking forward, leaving Spark, who looked at him curiously and with a bit of irritation. He's been in a weird mood since Mot refused to speak to him about what was wrong.

When Mot had moved a few feet forward, he realized what he was looking at, and let out a whoop, breaking into a sprint. He heard the older male call out behind him, but he didn't slow down, grinning widely. In front of him, he saw the edge of the red brick structure that was almost hidden behind the red stone.

It was a short sprint later that he realized he was looking at the bridge of a Nether Fortress. Only a small one it seemed, but still, there was possible a chance for the fortress to have a spawner. Mot slowed to a trot and looked up at it, panting lightly. Behind him, he heard Spark come running up, panting harder than Mot was. Spark did have a good few years of age on Mot after all. Mot turned to look at Spark, grinning widely. He bounced on his heels. "Feel up for hanging in there for just a while longer? We could probably find some blazes."

Spark didn't look like he would be able to take the heat much longer, but the man nodded slightly anyway. "Yes, as long as we make it quick at the very least. I'm used to the End, not the Nether." He said. Mot nodded and walked closer, edging along the cliff. They would have to dig or bridge into it. Mot instantly started digging, diamond pick shearing through the weak stone with ease.

They mined a three wide tunnel, that turned sharply to the left when they didn't hit into any Netherbrick. A scare with a lava patch that had them both leaping back in fright later, and they were looking down into the fortress. Mot sprung the three or four blocks down with ease. He bent his knees to absorb the shock of the landing, and flipped back onto his hands. The younger male was a bit of an acrobat, things he learned from his years on the streets that he still used today, and took every chance to show off. It came in handy sometimes, being so flexible.

He swung his feet up so that his heels were up in the air. Since Spark was older than Mot, he couldn't do jumps like Mot could anymore. Spark and Mot often did this when they didn't feel like putting down blocks or mining down to places. Spark stepped forward and onto his feet, balancing easily.

Mot bent his knees until they were near his head, letting Spark step down onto the dark red brick. If he got to show off his skills while helping save the older man's legs or pickaxe, he didn't mind. He flipped to his feet again and stood up, readjusting his shirt and jacket over his scarred and green speckled chest. "Ready?" He asked Spark, who nodded. The two of them walked down the hall, on their search for the blaze spawners that only formed on these structures.

 **Spark p.o.v**

Spark had to admit, watching Mot hop up on the edge of the fortress wall and flipping to walk on his hands, the younger male did seem a lot more relaxed and happy. His legs arched over his head, counterbalancing him so he didn't fall. The younger male hummed happily, his exhaustion forgotten with the excitement of finding the fortress. If only he had the endurance of the younger man, he'd be more excited as well. The age between the two of them wasn't as great as many people thought, but it was a good decade at least. **(I've always seen Spark being the oldest of the two- Jeriah only a few years younger and Alyssa obviously the youngest don't judge me)**

The older man walked along the bottom of the path without being as excessive as Mot, who cartwheeled to his feet to shear out more Netherrack so they could continue walking. It didn't seem like it went much further, and they had yet to find a Blaze spawner. But Mot seemed determined to find one before they went back, so Spark kept his mouth shut and pushed onward, though sweat was making his shirt stick to the small of his back. He could tell even Mot was feeling the heat, but the younger male forged on regardless.

They came to a space where there should have been an intersection, but Netherrack filled the spaces in all but the space directly ahead. They paused there, looking around. Mot drooped some, seeming dejected that they haven't found a spawner yet. "Even a small one like this should have a spawner." He complained, crossing his arms over his chest and shoving his chin and nose into his scarf like a pouting child.

Spark sighed softly, looking over at him as he leaned against the wall to take some weight off his feet. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it if that's how the world was created. It doesn't seem like our gods are in this world with us, so even praying would not get us what we need. We'll simply have to search-" He cut off as a wheezing, crackling sound filled the air. Blazes, close to them as well by how loud the sound was. Mot looked over at him, eyes widening. He grinned.

"We spoke too soon apparently." He said, advancing towards the sound. His pick popped out blocks of Netherrack until he got a hole he could look through. There were a good five Blazes on fire, milling around a spawner aimlessly. The creeper infected male left the hole there, to use it as a reference for how far to the side he had to go. "We only need a few right, at least five for now." He said, making a tunnel along the side of the spawner to reach the blazes.

"I'll get some as well, so we can have extra." Spark said, digging in on the other side of the spawner, listening to the blazes wheeze and crackle only a block to his right. Hopping up on a block so that he could peek his head over the wall and see them, he watched Mot leap down in and smash his sword into the first one, the ring of metal against metal filling the air. As the other four turned to fight him, Spark leapt in as well, slashing with his blade to distract them and keep Mot from being overwhelmed.

It was in no time at all that they had the long orange sticks, glowing faintly and radiating warmth. Mot put them into his bag, since he could handle them with his bare hands, unlike Spark. The younger male was in high spirits now, and with their prizes they retreated quickly back home. Mot seemed to be in a much better mood than he had been before, even with the conversation that Spark had tried to start. But there was no way he could try to bring that up without Mot completely shutting down now. Oh well, that was a conversation for another time.


	7. The Temple

**Late AGAIN, Ik… Sorry for the last chapter being so short, this one is going to have them skipping ahead to their first boss battle (lol why u lie to urself girl), since everything between was grindy and I don't feel like writing that.))**

They spent the next two weeks searching for resources and making potions. Mot took any excuse he could to make sure he and Spark were not left alone, no matter what. He disappeared often into the Nether, mining quartz and glowstone, killing ghasts, and just exploring the area. He would come back with an almost full inventory of blocks of quartz and drop them off with Alyssa, then get what he needed and disappear again. Spark spent his time mostly fishing, a way to supplement their food with variety. There was plenty of quartz, he didn't understand why Mot was getting so much of the stuff. Maybe it was his passive- aggressive way to tell Spark to build the statue like their deal had been. But he said nothing of it, so Spark let it go from his mind. Mot would return, he always did. His mood would pass.

It was no easy feat to get the leather needed for the rest of the bookshelves, but they did it, and a few lucky enchantments and combinations later saw them with a fortune three diamond pick. Mot had also enchanted some books and used his many levels to combine them and put them on armor and weapons. Spark made a chest of pots, and mined in the caves with Mot. Alyssa came with them sometimes too, so that they could carry more. Mot was more of himself when she joined them, though Spark knew he was doing it only for her sake, grinning and cracking jokes and doing tricks.

Eventually, the day came where they felt prepared enough to face the first boss, the Elder Guardian.

 **Spark p.o.v**

All of the time he spent fishing had paid off, they had a lot of pufferfish to brew into water-breathing potions. The mining gave them just enough gold for five standard golden apples. Alyssa got a tier two health pot, though Mot wanted her to have his second apple. She was planning on remaining above the water, waiting with extra supplies. It took some convincing to make Mot feel like she would be ok, that she wasn't going to be getting into the water with the monsters.

Mot was still acting strangely, and Spark could see how tired he was. For the past several days, the man hadn't even bothered pretending to sleep. He had spent the last few days fighting the monsters that spawned on the island, chewing on a specific type of bitter lichen he had recognized and found growing in the caves to stay awake. He was pushing himself too hard, but he had to crash eventually. Spark hoped it was soon, they had given themselves three days to prepare for the first boss, and if Mot was exhausted, he wouldn't fight like he could and was likely to be more rash.

They were getting their supplies ready to leave the next day, but Mot was nowhere to be found. Spark frowned, and left Alyssa to finish organizing what she would be carrying to go find him. He wasn't anywhere on the surface of the island, and he would have told them (Alyssa at least) if he had been going into the Nether. The older male scratched his head in confusion. That only left the mines down below, so he took his pick and sword and went down, calling out Mot's name in concern.

There was no response, but that didn't bother him too much. If he was getting hurt, the two of them would know in that gut feeling that happened. Down and down Spark went, snatching a torch off the wall where it wasn't needed and hanging his sword at his belt in exchange for his pick, widening the area just slightly.

He stopped at where they had made a small outpost down near where Jeriah had died, trying to ignore the blood staining the stone where he had lain. There were stripmines in many directions here, and he didn't know which one Mot would be down. Spark sighed, shaking his head. That kid was impossible when he was in a bad mood.

So he went down the mine that Mot had made last time they had come down. It was dimly lit, just enough to keep monsters from spawning. He past patches where coal has been mined, but there was some iron and even a patch of diamonds they had forgotten about still left in the wall. That was strange, Mot usually snatched up everything in sight when he went mining.

Spark was so concentrated on finding Mot that he almost overlooked him, peering down the dark tunnel to try and see if he could find him mining away. If it hadn't been for the sound of an iron pick dropping against stone, he would have passed right by him and not looked over.

Mot HAD been mining some iron, but it seemed that the male had succumbed to his exhaustion before he had finished more than a few pieces. He was leaning against the stone, half against the block that he had been mining and half against the one below that he had put a knee against to brace himself. His pick, an iron one to save his diamond, had fallen from his hand and rested a foot away. Mot showed no sign of waking up any time soon, not stirring as Spark shook his head and sighed in exasperation, stepping forward to pick up the younger male's pick.

Spark pushed it through his own belt, then turned to look at the sleeping Mot, arms crossed over his chest. "Really Mot, you couldn't fall asleep on the surface, or at least closer to it?" He said, voice quiet in the dusty air but seeming too loud to his own ears.

That position had to be far from comfortable. After a moment of contemplation, the older male rolled his eyes. "You better thank me for this later." He muttered, stepping forward and reaching out to grab him.

He shifted Mot so that he could pull the younger's arms over his shoulders, then wrapped his arms under his thighs and hefted the sleeping male onto his back. Mot mumbled something about juice at the jolt and nuzzled his face into Spark's shoulder. Spark snorted slightly in amusement and started walking back down the tunnel.

The way back seemed a lot longer than the way down had been. Perhaps because the man on his back was not the lightest even though he weighed the least of all the males in their little group and Spark was not as young as he had been. Mot himself was of no help, mumbling in his sleep and twitching occasionally. The older male puffed his way up to the small outpost they had made, and paused for a break. He let Mot slide to the ground, careful not to jolt the younger male. After all, if Mot woke up now, he might not sleep again and Spark couldn't do with him being tired when they went to fight the Guardian.

Spark sat down against the wall next to where he had rested Mot, leaning his head back against the wall and letting out a heavy sigh, catching his breath. The sound of Mot's steady breathing was a counterpoint to Spark's own, more labored breaths.

He closed his eyes behind his shades and was silent for a moment. "You really just can't let people help you, huh?" Spark murmured softly, listening to the echoing drip of water from somewhere down below. "You've got to be stubborn and independent… Making everyone worry when you run off for days at a time… Why are you so hostile to letting people get close?" Why was he saying all this out loud? Spark didn't know. Perhaps it was because Mot wouldn't know, but was he directing the words at himself or the sleeping male?

After he had caught his breath, Spark just remained sitting there for a while longer, looking over at Mot. He seemed so much younger asleep, without the stress and suppressed emotions tightening his face. The dark shadows under his eyes were still there, but his face was relaxed, mouth just slightly hanging open and chest rising and falling steadily. His scarf was wrapped loosely around his neck, one end trailing down farther than the other. The thing was old and faded with age, but it was the one thing he had from his parents and he refused to get rid of it.

Spark smiled slightly. It was rare to see Mot this unguarded, and now that Spark was looking at him like that, he could see why Dianite had been so pleased and bragged to Ianite when Mot finally let him see him sleeping. Groaning slightly as his sore body protested, Spark stood up slowly and stretched out, then looked back down at Mot. "You really owe me for this kid." He said, heaving him onto his back again.

 **Mot p.o.v**

Mot groaned slightly when he felt someone shift beside him, a breath of icy air making its way across his chest where his shirt had bunched up to his shoulders. He shivered, curling up in a tight ball and pressing against the back of whoever was to his right, drawn to their warmth. His fuzzy, tired mind didn't register the silence where there should be the sound of people preparing the market for early business, nor the voice of his daughter murmuring in her sleep to his left. It wasn't until he felt the person he was cuddling against shifted as if to look over their shoulder and snort slightly in amusement that he really tried to wake up, blinking his tired, mismatched eyes.

"Dianite never said that you were a cuddler when you slept Mot." Spark's deep voice rumbled through his chest with a slow, lazy tone as Mot forced himself to sit up, cheeks burning bright red at the comment. He glared sleepily at Spark. "Shut up or I'm kicking you to Day Three's bed over there." He muttered, tugging his shirt back down his chest and readjusting his scarf. Yes, he slept with it on. But then again he rarely ever really undressed to sleep.

The room was cold, even with the furnaces still going. Mot swore he could see his breath. He grimaced at the cold and buried himself back under the thick blankets, putting his back to Spark. The other man again snorted in amusement at the comment, looking down at the bundled up male. "I'll have you know that I had to haul your ass from that stripmine you fell asleep in and all the way back up. You're about as heavy as a sack of bricks Mot. You need to be more respectful to your elder." His tone was teasing, like the usual banter they had.

"I'll thank you when you kiss my ass and call me baby." Mot retorted. Not his best comeback, but he was too tired to think right to come up with one.

"Wow. So rude. I'm hurt Mot." Spark said, holding both hands to his heart like he was wounded. Mot gave him a one finger salute over the blankets and closed his eyes to nuzzle down further into the warmth. Spark just shook his head and laid back down. The other's back pressed against his, hot as the furnaces. Mot felt a flush touch his cheeks again at the contact, but didn't pull away from the added warmth. He closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep again.

When Mot woke up again, the sun was glaring down outside through the doors, and the bed was empty. He frowned as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. They wouldn't have gone far without him, neither of them were that kind of person.

He forced himself from the warmth of the bed and pulled on his worn boots, walking over to the door. He squinted as he walked into the sun. Why was it so bright?

There was snow on the ground. Alyssa was laughing as she scooped up a snowball from the ground and hurled it towards Spark. Spark ducked, and Mot got a face full of slush. He stumbled back, wiping the frozen slush from his face, sputtering with the shock of the icy crystals. Spark laughed. "Good morning Mot. It was all I could do to keep her from waking you up when she saw the snow."

It was a thin layer, to be sure, but there was a layer of brittle ice around the edges of the island and the snow was very slowly melting in the sun. That was proof of how quickly the seasons changed here. The water was cold at the best of times. It would be freezing now. He wrinkled his nose. "Ugh. Are we all ready to go? I don't want to spend any more time in the water than I have to." He said, ignoring the snow.

"Yes, I do think we are ready to go right now." Spark said, Alyssa looking up at the two of them. Her ears twitched slightly, but she went back to playing in the snow, her bunny hopping around beside her and nibbling the grass. "We just need boats, and some blocks to make a platform to stand on."

Mot nodded and wrapped his arms around his chest, shivering slightly in the chilly air. "I hate the cold. Why couldn't it be summer?" He muttered, turning and going back inside to get some food and organize himself.

Spark shook his head and went inside after him, wanting to get some stuff organized as well. He got some wood and went to make the boats. Mot shuffled through the food chest, pulling out a loaf of bread and taking a bite out of it, ripping through the thick crust and holding the loaf in place as he went over to the chest that they had designated for stuff for the boss fights. His inventory would look similar to Spark's, while Alyssa's would be mostly extra supplies.

It took less than an hour to organize everything, and the three of them got into the kayak like boats, took the paddles in hand, and set off to where they had seen the temple. Spark had the most experience with the small crafts, as Mot only really had traveled on trading ships and Alyssa had never had the chance to go sailing much on the water. Mot splashed him him with water in annoyance when he heard the man chuckle at their fumbling.

It was a matter of pride that Mot managed to avoid falling out of the boat on their way to the temple under the water. Luckily there was another island not too far away from where it was, and they landed there to make a base camp. There were trees aplenty, and it was much larger. Mot looked it over. "Why couldn't we have been thrown onto here!? This place is much better!" He exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling in annoyance.

After muttering about being stuck on the other island for a bit, he turned to help Alyssa build a temporary hadn't brought beds, because if something happened to them… that was it. There was no reason to bring beds to set a spawn.

They organized their stuff again, leaving some extra supplies to come back for in case they needed it. No need to carry everything on them, when they had too many to begin with. Mot turned to Alyssa. "You'll stay on the island right?" He said, wanting to make sure that she didn't try to follow them and get hurt. Alyssa nodded, rolling her eyes. "I'm a teenager, I'm not going to to poking everything with a stick like Dia said that you did at my age."

This comment made Mot's ears warm slightly, but he laughed and ruffled her hair. "I know, but I also know how hard headed you are. Got that from your mother for sure." She grinned up at him and skipped over to a patch of flowers to pick them. Mot smiled after her and turned to Spark, face growing serious. "We ready to go?" He said, twirling his sword end over end slowly, but seriously. Spark nodded and picked up his stuff. "Yeah, I guess. We've got everything, might as well head in." Mot gave a wolfish grin and nodded, shoving his sword in his belt and walking over to the boat again so that they could get overtop of the temple before the smaller guardians noticed they were there, to build a small shelf for them to escape onto when they needed it.

Mot drank his first water-breathing potion, the glowing liquid a dull, bland flavor of peppermint, and dove into the water near the temple. He gasped in shock. The water was bitterly cold, great. Mot gritted his teeth and dove further to the temple

The smaller guardians were too busy with the squids to notice him right now, which was a good thing. He built a pillar of cobblestone from the top back up, where Spark waited to expand it. Mot hauled himself from the water, shivering. "We'll have to be quick.." He said through chattering teeth. "The cold might kill us first before we get slow enough for the guardians to kill us." Spark nodded.

After the platform was built, Spark drank his water-breathing pot and dove into the water as well, while Mot took an involuntary breath inward and dove down again, swimming with strong strokes to catch up.

It was when they were just starting to mine into the temple that the Mining Fatigue hit them. Mot jerked back at the flash across his vision of the ugly fish, his limbs feeling much more heavy. "Ugh…" He groaned, and Spark made a similar sound as his mining speed was cut drastically.

"I'll drink some milk and mine through." Mot said, pulling out the bottle and making sure he had another water-breathing pot ready to drink again. Spark nodded and pulled back a little to give him room. Mot took a deep breath despite the pressure of all the sea around his chest and downed the bottle of milk. He felt the effects of his potion and the fatigue fade like a soap bubble popping. Swiftly, he began mining the block below him, as his lungs began to burn slightly.

It popped out after what seemed like eternity, and he drifted down into the space underneath. Mot managed to drink another breathing pot and gasped in a deep breath, panting as the cold sea flowed into his lungs again. That was something he always found strange, they were clearly breathing in water, but there was only traces left in their lungs when they left it. No time to think on that right now though. Spark followed behind him, looking through the dark hallways. It seemed clear.

"Let's go, before they spawn." He said. Mot nodded, trying not to think about how he only had two water-breathing pots left. Into their first boss fight they go.


End file.
